


Be Careful What You Wish For

by idiotslantern



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Tail Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 16:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6862606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiotslantern/pseuds/idiotslantern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean makes a wish on his birthday with unexpected consequences. It works out for him better than he would have thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Careful What You Wish For

Dean hasn't been one for celebrating his own birthday in a long time. All that January 24th marks for him is another year that he's somehow managed to keep on trucking. But now that they have the bunker, he does at least pamper himself a little bit. He gets himself a couple six packs of his favorite beer, makes some bitchin' burgers, and picks himself up a cake. (He refuses to _make_ his own cake. That's just plain depressing.)  
  
Once he's got his provisions and sent Sam out for the night to do whatever it is Sams do, he tucks into his burger – letting out the requisite pleased moans at its deliciousness – then cleans up before climbing into a warm bubble bath with his third (fourth?) beer of the night, and a good book. Well. Good is perhaps too forgiving, but he's enjoying it, and that's what matters.  
  
He picked up the weathered old paperback in a bargain bin at the local grocery store along with a few others. The spine reads “paranormal romance” in small white letters below the publishers logo, along with the terribly cheesy title and the author's name, which is either a pseudonym or the product of truly awful parents. He only really glanced over the blurb on the back when he picked it up the other day, so all he can really gather is that it's about a paranormal investigator who has as much of a habit of having sex with things that go bump in the night as he does solving cases about them. The investigator in question has a name that no one in their right mind would give their child, and is your typical tall, dark, and handsome man who sees the world in shades of gray as varied as the coarse hairs of his salt and pepper beard. If Dean's being perfectly honest – which he feels he can be, warm and tipsy as he soaks in lavender scented – he's just the kind of guy Dean would go for, dramatic inner monologue and all.  
  
A couple chapters in, the author brings in the main character's would be love interest: a younger guy with delicate features, freckles, and a smart mouth. He's always got a joke or a sarcastic comment to offer in any situation, except for the occasions when the main character lets slip something that may or may not be a come on. There's several chapters worth of moon eyes and flirting as the main character screws half the tertiary characters in the book, but gets all mopey and jealous when the object of his affection receives attention from anything that even vaguely resembles a man.  
  
Dean practically cheers once their flirting and tension comes to a head. It starts with a desperate kiss and harried touching after a near death experience, and leads to the two of them impatiently undressing each other in the main character's office. But just as things are getting good, the main character freeze and Dean groans and is tempted to toss the book at the wall. He keeps on reading though, curious as to _why_ they would stop. _Apparently_ the main character was taken by surprise because, as he trailed his hand down his love interest's back on his way to push his fingers inside him, he feels something _furry_. Once the love interest figures out why things have stopped, he blushes and stutters through an explanation, stating that, when he gets aroused, he sprouts a tail.  
  
Dean laughs at this and drunkenly mutters “I wish I had a tail...” before he goes back to reading the book so he can find out if the tail factors in to their love making in any fashion, or if it's just there.  
  
After Dean's bath, he dries off and heads back to the kitchen for a heaping slice of his birthday cake and heads to bed. Loose and relaxed and full, it doesn't take him long to drift off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.  
  
–-  
  
Dean wakes the next morning and goes through his usual morning routine, sleep lingering in his eyes and his limbs as it always does before coffee and without the presence of pressing danger. He shuffles to the kitchen in boxers and a bathrobe, both of which seem to be sitting a little weird on him this morning, but he's too tired to care why.  
He's just flipping on the coffee machine when he hears Sam come in.  
  
“Hey, Sammy,” he says groggily. “If y'want some coffee, it'll be a few minutes.”  
  
Sam doesn't respond.  
  
“What? I don't even get a grunt of acknowledgment?” Dean turns around to make sure Sam is still there, and there he is, looking as gargantuan as usual, and staring at Dean like he's got three heads. Dean grimaces. “What? What's that look for?”  
  
“Uhh,” Sam sputters. “You, uh...” He clears his throat. “Have you noticed something...different, since I left yesterday?”  
  
Dean tilts his head, examining his brother. “Did you get a haircut?”  
  
Sam sighs. “Not about _me_ , Dean.”  
After a few moments of silence, Sam looking like what he's talking about should be obvious, Dean shakes his head. “I have no idea what you're talking about, man.”  
  
Dean turns back to the coffee maker, willing it to brew faster, and hears Sam stomping over before grabbing the back of Dean's robe and lifting it up. “ _That_ , Dean.”  
  
Dean's about to bat Sam's hands away, but Sam has him curious. He turns around to see what has Sam in such a fuss and...okay, he can't judge Sam for freaking out.  
  
“What the hell is that?” Dean shrieks as he watches the faintly striped tail protruding from his backside wave calmly from side to side of its own volition.  
  
“It's a tail,” Sam responds, sounding dumbfounded.  
  
“No _shit_ , it's a tail. What's it doing _there_?”  
  
“How the hell should I know?” Dean wants to smack the bitch face off his brother, but more urgently, he wants to find out why he has a tail, and how to get rid of it.  
  
-–  
  
After a full pot of coffee, with another one brewing, they start researching possible causes for spontaneous tail growth. Sam asks him a series of increasingly ridiculous questions, about whether he's been bitten or scratched by anything, come across any angry witches, eaten or inhaled any strange substances, all of which he says no to. Dean closes the book he's been searching through and sits back, scrubbing a hand tiredly down his face.  
  
“This is pointless,” he announces, exasperated.  
  
“Maybe we missed something,” Sam suggests. “Maybe it's some delayed curse or something from the last witch you pissed off.” Sam tries to keep an amused smile off his face. “Or maybe you made a really weird wish when you blew out your birthday candles last night.”  
  
Dean's about to glare at him, maybe toss his empty paper coffee cup at him, but then he remembers something. Remembers reading in the tub and muttering something about wanting a tail. Loathe to admit that to Sam, he just grimaces at him and gives him a rather pathetic “Shut up.”  
  
Sam seems to find Dean's discomfort hilarious, letting out a full body laugh. “Dude-”  
  
Dean cuts him off. “I said shut up.”  
  
-–  
  
They spend a few hours looking for ways to counteract wayward birthday wishes before Dean decides he needs a break. He's been holed up in the bunker, hunched over old ass musty books for too long, and he's itching to stretch his legs. He heads to his room to change, and at the last minute, remembers he should probably do something about the tail, so as not to freak out the general public.  
  
He considers, briefly, just duct taping it down, but then thinks of the pain he would incur trying to get it off later, and decides that would be a bad idea. He looks around his room for a solution to his problem, and comes across a ratty old t-shirt he's had for ages that got torn in a recent hunt. It's really in no shape to be used as a shirt anymore anyway, so he grabs it and starts tearing it into strips ,which he then uses to tie the tail down to his leg. It proves more difficult than anticipated, and the thing fights it on him every step of the way, but eventually he has it tied down, leaving only a slight, barely noticeable bulge under his jeans and only causes mild discomfort.  
  
Dean tells Sam he's heading out – Sam has elected to stay back and do more research – and heads to a nearby bar. Sitting on the bar stool is a little uncomfortable with the tail where it is, but he learns to put it at the back of his mind as he digs into a plate of nachos and sips at some fruity umbrella drink. (It's probably a sign that he's spent too much time with Crowley in bars, but it's delicious and misleadingly strong, so shut up.)  
  
Halfway through his nachos, he notices in his peripheral vision someone sidling up to him and leaning against the bar, ordering a stiff drink. His low voice has a tinge of gravel to it, but his cadence is gentle, and it sends a barely concealed shiver down his spine when he thinks of that voice uttering much less innocuous things in his ear. Dean's shaken from his thoughts when the stranger clears his throat. Dean turns to him and is sucked into piercing hazel eyes. His brain sputters to keep up with what's happening, and belatedly realizes that he's being asked his name.  
  
“It's, uh...It's Dean.”  
  
That's enough to earn him a small smile. “I'm Griffin,” he says, offering his hand. “Nice to meet you, Dean.” His hand is warm without being unpleasantly so, and Dean feels calluses brush against his palm.  
  
“Likewise,” he manages to get out, and his face feels warm. He's worried he might be blushing.  
  
Griffin gestures to Dean's nearly empty glass. “Can I buy you another drink?”  
  
A smile pulls at the corners of Dean's lips and he finds himself saying yes.  
  
–-  
  
They have a few drinks together and before Dean knows it, he finds himself back at Griffin's hotel room, hands buried in his thick, dark hair, feeling the scrape of stubble against his neck. Dean is buzzed and distracted enough that he doesn't think about the fact that he has a /tail/ tied down against his leg by nothing but scraps of fabric, until it starts showing an interest in how Griffin's hand is pressing against him through his jeans.  
  
Dean tries to work through his tipsy haze to come up with an excuse to stop as Griffin makes quick work of undoing Dean's jeans. He needs to think fast because with each passing minute, the tail tugs harder at it's restraints, threatening to free itself, and griffin gets closer to getting Dean out of his jeans.  
  
“Wait,” Dean urges, and Griffin's hands still and pull away.  
  
Their eyes meet, and Dean notices Griffin looks concerned. “Everything okay?”  
  
“Y-yeah,” Dean stutters. “I just, uh...”  
  
Only he doesn't get a chance to come up with an excuse before he feels the strips of fabric loosen around his thigh. He curses mentally and watches as Griffin's eyes widen a little.  
  
“Is that...”  
  
“A tail,” Dean finishes. “Yeah. I, uh. I can...explain. Or, well, not explain, exactly. It just sort of showed up this morning.”  
  
“Huh,” Griffin says, looking past Dean at the tail. Griffin's fingers graze the tail – or the tail grazes Griffin's hand, he's not sure which – and it causes Dean to shudder, his cock twitching in his jeans.  
  
“I—sorry,” Griffin mumbles. “Did that hurt?”  
  
“No,” Dean chokes out, his voice quavering as the tail seeks out Griffin's touch again, brushing against his hand. “It felt good.”  
  
“Oh,” Griffin lets out. “How good?” Griffin's hand strokes up the length of the tail, and this time Dean can't hold in the moan that escapes his lips.  
  
“Very.” Dean's voice is rough and barely there. He watches with bated breath as Griffin sinks to his knees, Dean's jeans and boxers going with him.  
  
Griffin wraps his hand around Dean's cock, his hand moving in sure, confident strokes as his tongue laps at the head. Dean curls his fingers in Griffin's hair, feeling lips wrap around him. A litany of curses softly spills out of Dean.  
  
As Griffin takes Dean deep in his mouth, the tail snakes it's way around to brush against Griffin's cheek. It seems to startle him a little, but he doesn't stop stroking the base of Dean's cock as he pulls back. The tail flicks gently over Griffin's lips and Dean sees his brow furrow as the tail finds its way inside the warm heat of his mouth, shocking a moan out of Dean.  
  
“Jesus, man, I--” Dean rushes to apologize, but the words die in his throat as Griffin begins sucking earnestly at the tail. The hand on Dean's cock doesn't let up, maintaining the same pace as Griffin's head as he bobs up and down the length of the tail. Dean feels heat pooling low in his belly and he moans Griffin's name, tugging gently at his hair, and Griffin's free hand reaches behind Dean, his fingers brushing gently over the soft hairs at the base of the tail. With a choked off groan, Dean comes, his hips jerking as come splashes on Griffin's cheek and neck.  
  
Griffin strokes Dean through his orgasm, slowly pulling off the tail, which lazily flops about. Dean pulls Griffin to his feet, pulling him against his chest as he licks his way into his mouth. He barely registers a faint sizzle, then a bright flash of pain at the base of his spine. He breaks the kiss, spitting tufts of fur out of his mouth – one major downside of kissing a guy who just had a tail in his mouth – and glances behind him.  
  
“Your tail's gone,” Griffin says, sounding dumbfounded. “Bummer.”  
  
Dean chuckles. “I think I'll get over it.”  
  
-–  
  
Dean stays at Griffin's for round two – and three – and leaves in a good mood the next morning.  
  
When Sam asks where he was all night, all he tells him is that he found a way to get rid of the tail.  
  
“How?” Sam asks him, his face contorted in confusion.  
  
Dean smirks to himself as he leaves Sam in the kitchen, calling Dean's name after him, without an answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SPN Coldest Hits Challenge for the May theme: Birthday Fairytale. [Here's the link to the original post.](http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/143263028075)  
> I didn't end up posting one last month because I started the fic and it got out of hand, but I was determined to post this month. I messaged the great muse of terrible ideas, and was gifted with this prompt:  
> "Dean is granted one wish for his birthday, except it all goes horribly wrong when the birthday fairy gives him a tail - insert whichever ship you ship him with and make sexy times with the tail."
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://lexiedewitt.co.vu) if you want to talk about random bar guys fellating Dean's magical tail.


End file.
